Literary Master 1918: Starting with New Youth

"How come... you only got a C in 'primary school'? Mr. Wang wasn't praising you..."

"Mr. Wang Huizhi!" Bao Guowei turned around abruptly, correcting him as if the name "Wang Huizhi" were a golden signboard. "Mr. Wang's scholarship is as deep as the sea. His 'Zhang Wang Learning' cannot be measured by ordinary examinations. He said I have 'ancient style,' do you understand? These new schools of thought in the national academy today, how could they understand this!"

"But these results... are ultimately not enough..."

"Brother Guo Chun is only a B-grade!" The young man didn't even turn his head, just pressed his stomach against the edge of the table. He leaned forward, making the square table creak. "Guo Chun, Mr. Gu Ming's favorite! He comes from a distinguished family, and he's only a B-grade. What's wrong with me being a C-grade?"

Old Bao dared not delve further and remained silent.

The original story of "The Bao Family" involved a student repeating a grade, but it has now been adapted to involve a student failing a grade.

Wu Zhu had already inquired and found out that Zhang Fengzai and his ilk also failed the test. Once the results were released, they would be made to identify themselves and then jump up and down in a panic!

However, this plot also shows that Lao Bao is actually very disappointed with Xiao Bao's learning attitude and ability, but he doesn't dare to say it out loud, for fear that his dream will be shattered. This can be seen as foreshadowing the ending.

"This semester... the tuition, the uniform fee..."

"Ritual! That's ritual!"... "The National Academy is the highest institution of learning. Respect for teachers and the importance of etiquette cannot be disregarded! Are we to be as improper as those young people in short jackets who keep saying 'What's wrong with that?'"

[A burst of laughter and conversation erupted outside, interspersed with a few words of English, and someone loudly discussed, "Mr. Wang was quite the ladies' man at that party in the Eight Great Hutongs last time"—it was clearly the young master from the hutong, the student at Huiwen Middle School, and his group of friends.]

Bao Guowei raised his eyebrows and stared at the door until the sound faded into the distance. His legs swung wildly under the table, his feet in old cloth shoes seeming quite defiant.

The old man had much to say to Bao Guowei, but everyone else's eyes were already drawn to the cover girl of the newly arrived "Fiction Pictorial" on the table: don't interrupt his "exploration."

Bao Guowei... was secretly plotting something else. A few days ago, the chief editor of the *Gongyan Bao* newspaper, because of his frequent submissions of "defenders of morality" commentaries, praised him as having "a young man with a powerful pen, a pillar of the nation," subtly hinting that he could be given a "special reporter" position, allowing him to frequently visit the National Academy, interviewing scholars like Wang, Gu, and Liu, and writing about "anecdotes of the academic world" and "the demeanor of masters." This was practically a shortcut to success!

[By associating with these titans, how could you possibly lack a future? Then, dressed in the most exquisite antique-style long gowns, wielding the finest Huzhou brushes and Huizhou ink, you'll frequent scholarly salons, upholding orthodoxy when vernacular Chinese reigns supreme… Even those trend-chasing girls will have to take notice!]

This is a direct attack, not particularly literary, but it's definitely satisfying.

This is the first time Wu Zhu has ever enjoyed writing a book so much since he traveled through time.

Previously, it was all about completing tasks, but this time there was an element of personal revenge involved. I was incredibly motivated, and I was determined to retaliate, almost to the point of sharpening my pen until it sparked.

As I said before, of all people to mess with, you had to provoke him. It really makes you look down on plagiarists...

He slammed down the magazine and smoothed his greasy hair.

[Old Bao finally waited until Bao Guowei slammed his book down: "This—this—this dress code..."]

No one paid him any attention, so he paused for a while... He meant that the uniform he made last year was still brand new, and he wanted to explain this to the school so he could avoid paying the unexpected twenty yuan. Otherwise—

"Otherwise, it will cost over seventy yuan. Of that seventy yuan—right now, only—only—Zhang Laoqi's writing fee hasn't been repaid yet, and this time it'll be another twenty… You still need to buy some books like Mr. Wang's 'Notes on the Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons,' so you have to… talk to the accounting department when you pay, so you can pay less… less…"

The sun was already high in the sky, and as the temperature rose, the condensation on the window gradually dissipated.

Brother Li, who came to work here, was also surprised to see this scene.

When he returned last night, Wu Zhu was still there. Now, he was the first to open the door, and Wu Zhu was still writing. What does this mean?

Wu Zhu sat here all night!

"That's really impressive..."

Brother Li didn't want to bother his friend, so he started organizing today's newspapers.

......

As class time drew closer, people began to enter the reading room, tiptoeing and not daring to make a sound.

Wu Zhu, oblivious to everyone else, continued writing his own things, his pen moving swiftly across the paper like a printer, producing lines of neat small characters.

Now, everyone at Yenching University knows his face.

Seeing his posture, the students knew he was writing again, so they all chose to stay far away so as not to disturb the student writer, which would leave none of them with any novels to read.

Bao Guowei jumped up: "Go pay it! Go pay it! I'm not going to plead for them! — How pathetic they look! Don't students of the Imperial Academy have any dignity left?"

Old Bao was satisfied with this answer. He nodded and said, "Hmm, I'll go pay for... my school accounting class."

His son glared at him. He just kept talking.

Is the accounting class on the second floor?

"call!"

Wu Zhu put down his pen and vigorously wiped his face.

The beginning is always the hardest. I've finished the first section, and I'm pretty sure I can finish the rest.

He stretched his stiff upper body, looked out the window, and squinted as the sunlight stung his eyes.

I'm feeling sleepy now, like after spending the whole night at an internet cafe. Not only am I dizzy and lightheaded, but I also feel awful. Seeing light makes me feel like I'm in another world.

The reading room remained quiet, with only the sound of newspapers turning and the rustling of writing.

He added "Unfinished" to the title, tidied up all the manuscript paper and trash, and vigorously tugged at his hair to refresh himself.

Because his hair was oily, this movement set it in a messy state, making him look like a homeless person, except for the stubble.

When writers are rushing to meet deadlines, they're rarely so refined; going days without showering is common...

Wu Zhu got up and walked towards the door. The students made way for him and nodded to greet him.

He approached Brother Li, who was studying philosophy, leaned half his body over the table, and whispered:

"Brother Li, did you know there are rats in the reading room?"

"Um?"

"I saw the rats tearing apart the package you left here. To prevent food from going to waste, I quickly rescued it and ate all the steamed buns inside, so the rats wouldn't get a single bite!"

Wu Zhu blatantly lied, yet he spoke with righteous indignation.

Brother Li was stunned for a moment, then immediately realized that Wu Zhu had been hungry that night and had eaten all of his dry rations.

He chuckled helplessly.

"Eat whatever you want, and I'll buy you more if you're not full."

"Oh, it's almost twelve o'clock on the clock. I'll treat you to braised pork at Haiquancheng later, and I'll also give you some dry rations."

"this......"

"Don't refuse, we agreed!"

"No problem! How did you know I love braised pork?"

"Hey! It's a secret."

Having received a positive reply, Wu Zhu simply moved a chair and sat down next to the administrator's desk, forcing himself to stay awake so he wouldn't fall asleep.

Brother Li closed the book, carefully examined Wu Zhu's condition, and noticed that she had very dark circles under her eyes. He lowered his voice and asked:

"Brother Wu, you haven't slept all night, you must have been writing a new novel. Could it be related to your argument with Professor Huang?"

"Yes... There's an old saying that you shouldn't hold a grudge overnight. I take revenge on the spot, but I always feel like I didn't do a good job, and I don't feel at ease if I don't write it down."

"You are quite an interesting person. You look refined, but your personality is like that of a bandit from the mountains."

"Nobody wants to be a bandit, but some people force them, so they have no choice but to do as they wish... It's not that bandits have guns that we're afraid of, it's that they're afraid of bandits with education, don't you think?"

Brother Li silently gave Wu Zhu a thumbs up.